


Senoritas, Tequila and Guacamole

by out_there



Category: Sports Night
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-12-17
Updated: 2004-12-17
Packaged: 2017-10-15 05:30:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/157510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/out_there/pseuds/out_there
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Casey gets sent to Mexico.  Dan tags along.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Senoritas, Tequila and Guacamole

**Author's Note:**

> [](http://sajee.livejournal.com/profile)[**sajee**](http://sajee.livejournal.com/) said they should go to Mexico and how could I resist writing that? Thanks to [](http://ngaio.livejournal.com/profile)[**ngaio**](http://ngaio.livejournal.com/) for a quick beta.

"El Mehico!" Dan says again, and this time, Casey doesn't even groan.

"Could you give the Speedy Gonzales impersonation a rest?" Casey shifts his bag in his hand, and unlocks the door.

Dan grins, but at least he's not impersonating a cartoon rodent anymore. "We're on a paid vacation in Mexico, Casey. How can you be such a spoilsport about this?"

"One," Casey says, pushing the door open with a shoulder, "You're the only one on vacation time." It's a twin room, a last minute change that Casey will have to thank Natalie for later. Possibly with curses against her and all of her descendents.

"You bet I am," Dan says cheerily.

It looks like any hotel room inside, the blank comfort that means he could be anywhere. He puts his luggage down on one of the beds, and turns back to Dan. "And why you chose to follow me here is beyond my understanding."

"Mexico," Dan says, grinning at him as if they haven't just had the plane trip from hell, as if Dan hadn't just invited himself along. "It's the appealing combination of strong liquor and being outside the jurisdiction of American laws."

Dan had just showed up at the airport, ticket in hand, without even asking Casey. "That's a combination that concerns me," Casey says.

Dan grins back at him as he follows Casey inside, wheeling his luggage behind him. "It does have a certain appeal, Casey."

"Two, it's not a paid vacation for me. It is a weekend off combined with interviews with the Mexican soccer team." Casey sighs and rests back on the bed. He's not a great traveller at the best of times, and their flight was delayed long enough for his hair to start going grey.

"Don't split hairs. You're being paid and you don't have to work. It's cause for celebration."

"Interview. Soccer team. Are these ringing any bells?" He wants to sleep. He wants a good meal. He wants to go home.

Dan rolls his eyes and parks his suitcase next to the dressing table. "You have no work to do until Monday."

"I have interview preparation," he says but Dan's still grinning. "I'm tired, Dan. That was a ridiculously long flight, I have interviews to prepare for, and they wanted me here a few days early, just in case." He groans and sits up, thinking that he really should unpack now, before anything gets too wrinkled.

"It's Mexico, Casey. Tequila and guacamole! Senoritas, even," Dan gestures wildly with his hands and his interminable good mood is starting to annoy Casey. "What could you possibly complain about?"

"This is supposed to be my weekend with Charlie." Casey pulls out a shirt, smoothing it down with a vengeance. "And now I have to share a room with you."

Dan leans back against the wall, crossing his arms. "You'd prefer I didn't come?"

"What the hell were you expecting, Danny? If you came for wild nights of partying, there aren't going to be any," Casey gripes, and Dan nods. "I'll be on camera -- I can't show up with a hangover."

"Okay, so we go out and don't drink." Dan toes his shoes off, and stretches his neck. "It'll still be fun."

"Just don't forget we're sharing a room." Casey would have been happier if he was alone, if he could sulk about this in peace. Instead, he's going to have to put up with hyper-Danny and his determination to have a good vacation. As if a couple days can count as a vacation anyway.

Casey turns back to his pile of clothes and tries not to blame Danny for this situation. It's just work. Of course, if a certain someone wasn't so vocal about their hatred of soccer, Casey wouldn't have had to come in the first place. "Which means there's very little chance of you getting lucky. Unless you can use that smattering of high-school Spanish to convince her to take you back to her place."

Dan raises an eyebrow, but doesn't seem fazed by Casey's mood. "I don't know about that."

"You don't know about what?" Casey asks crankily.

Dan pushes himself off the wall, and walks towards Casey. "The not getting laid part."

"You have a ridiculous amount of faith in your bad Spanish." Or a ridiculous amount of faith in your silent appeal, Casey adds silently.

"I don't need Spanish to get laid," Dan says, and then leans down to kiss him before Casey can think of a good retort. It's awkward, with Dan bent over and his neck stretched at an odd angle, but kissing Danny's always good. Firm and directed, and Dan thoroughly takes control.

Dan's hands pull on his sweater, and for a moment Casey thinks he's trying to pull it off. Between Dan's hungry and insistent kisses, Casey drags enough brain cells together to realise that Dan's actually trying to pull him *up*. He tries to follow Dan's urging hands, scrambling off the bed awkwardly and walking backwards until his back hits the wall.

Danny growls, actually *growls*, and kisses him so deeply he can probably tell what Casey ate for breakfast. Yesterday morning. It's impossible to stand up to the sheer force of Danny's demanding kisses, and Casey's shoulders thump against the wall as he gives up, and just wraps his arms around Danny's back, holding on for the ride.

Dan's hands are on his ass, squeezing the muscle, pulling Casey's hips sharply against him, and his teeth are trailing over Casey's jaw. It leaves Casey's mouth free, and that's bad. Dan knows it's bad. Dan knows he talks; knows Casey can't stop himself from talking, from blurting out whatever crosses his mind. Especially when Dan bites down like that on his neck, all sharp teeth and hard suction.

"We're not drunk." It's probably the worst thing that Casey could say, but it comes out of his mouth in a rush.

Dan tenses under his hands and... stops. Doesn't pull away, doesn't move his hands, just freezes where he is. Casey rests his head against the wall, looks up at the ceiling and wishes this didn't happen. That he didn't get so turned on his mouth started working on autopilot. It never happened with Lisa and it never happened with Sally. It seems somehow unfair that it only happens with Dan.

Behind his closed eyelids, Casey tries to imagine Dan's expression, tries to work out if he's just screwed this up. He's not even sure what "this" is. There isn't any easy term for it, there isn't any word that explains it exactly. He's slept with Danny a handful of times over the last month and he's not even sure if it qualifies for its own definition.

The first time, they were drunk. Really drunk. Right at the level of "I'm not sure if this is my carpet," and "Have I always been this tall?". Casey can't remember much of it, but he remembers flashes. The next morning, they were just... them. Not awkward, not angry, just... them. Groaning about hangovers, and trying to get to work on time, and bantering about make-up's reaction. They were Casey and Danny, the way they've always been Casey and Danny. The way they still are, right up until the next time they get drunk, and he gets a chance to lose himself in Danny's bare skin.

There's that saying about ignoring the elephant in the room, but this isn't like that. This is like a really shy kitten in the room. Casey knows it's there, but he forgets about it until there's a sudden blur as it dashing across the room. Then he remembers, and smiles at Danny, and that's it. Sure, they do this. But they're always drunk. And they're not right now.

"Interview. Soccer team. Hangover," Dan says lightly, and Casey shudders at the warm breath against his wet skin. "That's why we're not drunk."

Dan doesn't say anything else, just stands there in this ridiculous position, hands on Casey's ass, head crooked against Casey's neck. It's ridiculous, and it feels more familiar than it should.

The silence is intolerable and Casey can almost hear himself swallow. "Should we get drunk?" Casey's voice wavers, and he sounds about fourteen. He feels about fourteen, all gangly limbs, like he's still wearing those thick glasses and dorky braces from high school. Like he's trying to be one of the cool kids and failing miserably.

"You think we need to?" Dan asks, lifting his head. Casey can almost feel the stare, but he shrugs and keeps his eyes on the ceiling. He doesn't know what to say.

It isn't practical to get drunk, but he'd rather deal with the hangover tomorrow than have to stop now. What he wants is for Dan to make the decision for him. To let him know what he's supposed to say, what will make Dan go back to kissing him, to whispering indecent things against his skin. He takes a deep breath and looks at Dan, because it's cowardly not to. Then he lowers his voice, trying to sound sexy and just hoping he doesn't sound too pathetic. "I'm open to suggestions."

"I think we've got everything we need right here," Dan says with a promising grin and cups Casey's half-hard cock in one hand. Casey makes a sound that he doesn't even try to classify, but it's needy enough that Dan starts kissing him again.

With a firm grip on Casey's waistband, Dan pulls them one of the beds -- the one that doesn't have Casey's opened suitcase lying on it. They tumble onto the bed with a muffled thump and Danny laughs.


End file.
